


It's Getting Late

by demiclar



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Amanda being the voice of reason, Amanda talking about the H.E.L.M crew, Because Zavala is just Amanda's dad and I'm here for that, Father-Daughter sort of relationship, Gen, Generally just soft all around, I wrote this in like an hour so it's probably bad, Season of the Chosen, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiclar/pseuds/demiclar
Summary: Zavala is never the best at taking care of himself, but Amanda doesn't mind helping out when he needs it.
Relationships: Amanda Holliday & Zavala
Kudos: 11





	It's Getting Late

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Like I said in the tags I wrote this really quickly so its probably not fabulous but Zavala and Amanda need more love so I'm giving it to them! Enjoy!

Zavala’s never looked quite so…lonely. After Cayde died, they’d all seemed a little lonely, times were hard, tensions were high, but when Amanda looks at him now? A weight settles into her gut just at the sight of it. She doesn’t know what Ikora is up to these days, but she knows it must be something important. Something too complex for her to understand, something about their enemies that can’t be solved with her ship’s guns or the presence of the Guardian. But it’s not Ikora’s job to entertain Zavala. It’s not Osiris’ either, but ever since the Warlock came back to the Tower to serve as Zavala’s advisor, she noticed clear as day how helpful the presence of another person was, and not just to shoulder the weight of command. She also knows it’s not just Osiris who’s started to help out. Where there’s Osiris, there’s Saint, as much as the Warlock wouldn’t care to admit it. Those two have been alive for longer than she can comprehend, and yet they’re still dancing around one another like embarrassed schoolboys. Osiris more than Saint, perhaps, but neither one is innocent as far as she can tell.

But Osiris isn’t advising Zavala so much anymore. At least not directly. He’s busy on the H.E.L.M., taking down Caiatl’s empire. She’s busy too, running air support for the Guardian under the command of Osiris and Saladin. Having Saladin back can only be good for Zavala, but it doesn’t make either of them less busy. She’s not sure they’ve been able to spend time together in the days since their mission began. But she’s not sure he sees Zavala the way she does. If working with Saladin these past few days has taught her anything, it’s that the man is ruthless. He’s not likely the kind of person to notice or come running to Zavala when he looks so low, even if Saladin is the closest thing to a mentor or father that Zavala has, in the same way that he is to her.

So, she makes time, because if her years in the Tower have taught her anything, it’s Guardians. She knows the way they work, the way they’d dive headlong into danger and stress and burdens all for the sake of others, yet they’d do none of that work for themselves. They believe they’re above it, believe they don’t need it, that they shouldn’t need it, even when they cause themselves pain. Zavala more than most.

It’s late when she leaves her ship in the hangar, lets her workers take care of it for once as she heads towards the courtyard, shivering at the cold winter air as it blasts through the open hangar. By the time she makes it down to Zavala’s office, her face is windblown and there are goosebumps dotting all over her exposed skin, but she’s hopeful for a moment that Zavala has actually left his office to go rest until she ducks through the door and spots him seated at his desk, his gaze so focused he doesn’t even look up when she enters.

“You Guardians have certainly cornered the market on being workaholics.” She tells him, and his eyes flick up to hers, surprise evident in them for a brief moment before his body relaxes and exhaustion filters back in.

“Amanda,” He says, despite the tired look in his eyes. “Do you have news from the front?”

She shakes her head, wandering in as she speaks, moving to lean on the side of his desk.

“Nothin’ you wouldn’t already know.” She explains, checking the clock behind her. It’s well after midnight, yet Zavala shows know sign of stopping his work anytime soon, not that she expected as much. “I just had to convince Osiris and our Guardian to call it a night. Even without Ghosts you all seem convinced you don’t need sleep.” She aims the jab at him as well, and he hears it loud and clear, his hum off ascent rumbling low and deep in the quiet room. “That’s quite a team you’ve put together.”

“Indeed.” Zavala agrees, and he doesn’t object when she slides a little bit further onto his desk so that she’s properly sitting on it, even when he likely wouldn’t tolerate the action from anyone else. He sets his data tablet aside and looks at her. “How are things on the H.E.L.M.?” He asks her, “Osiris and Lord Saladin are both…”

_Ancient?_ The word pops into her mind but she doesn’t voice it. He’s not much younger than them, after all.

“Strong characters,” he settles on, and Amanda smiles at the understatement. “I was a little concerned there might be some tensions between the two of them.”

“They’re doin’ alright.” She answers with a shrug. “I’ve only heard them disagree once or twice, mostly about ethics.”

Zavala frowns at that. “How do you mean?”

She lets out a quiet sigh, trying to recall the conversations from earlier. She’s already exhausted from flying all day, trying to recall details now is like trying to fly through a snowstorm. She can do it, but she'd really rather not. Still, she does her best.

“Saladin told Osiris he could’ve been one of the Iron Lords, Osiris brought up Saladin’s reaction to the Red War, ‘bout how Saladin ordered the Iron Lords not to fight.” She glances back to Zavala, who nods thoughtfully. “Osiris got all high and mighty and Saladin got defensive.” She explains, “Then there was a time when Saladin wanted to send in a second crew to clean up a battlefield and Osiris brought up some Vanguard policy about fleeing enemies.”

Zavala nods in recognition. “There’s a loosely held Vanguard policy to offer quarter to fleeing enemies. Osiris would be familiar. Saladin doesn’t respect such practices.”

It’s Amanda who nods this time. “Crow had the same issue with him. He doesn’t have the same hatred for our enemies. He thinks we should all be friends. With the Fallen, even the Cabal.”

“There is something to be said about the possibilities of an alliance with the Eliksni.” Zavala says, and when she shifts to look at him more fully, his eyes are down on his desk. They stay there for a moment before rising to hers. “It would help both our forces considerably. We would have less to worry about in the EDZ and here, outside the city, and the Eliskni could recuperate from the losses they’ve taken from Guardian hands thus far. There are already Houses and Kells with Guardian support.”

Amanda shakes her head to herself. She’s seen how weak the Fallen Houses are already, but she doesn’t have the energy to contemplate the morality of it all. To weigh what they’ve done to her and the rest of humanity with what the Guardians have done to them in turn. Maybe it is equal, with the Light, they’ve probably done worse, but the Red War made her wary, jaded.

“Commander, it’s too late at night for you to be telling me things like that.” She announces, and Zavala actually smiles. A weak, tired smile, but a smile all the same.

“My apologies, Amanda.” He tells her, “But you’re right, it is late.” He opens his mouth to continue and she turns to face him fully, giving him a stern look.

Seemingly despite himself, as he submits under her stare, he smiles a little more. “Perhaps we should both get some sleep.”

She grins, quick to agree, and Zavala’s smile stays until they part ways. As she watches him go, he still looks tired and overworked, but he doesn’t look nearly as lonely as he did before.


End file.
